State of the .4rt during the dark .dges.
The history of the world has at all times demonstrated the intimate connection that exists between literature in general and the fine arts; in so far as regards the state of their prosperity. Dependent on the sane causes, where a blight has spread over the fields of science, the fine arts are equally certain to shrink under its baleful influence. The golden ages of Athens and Rome were in this respect alike, as well as in the xras which marked the decline and downfall of their literature, in both proving equally fatal to the fine arts. It were fruitless to endeavour to assign any determined and distinct causes, as uniformly occa sioning the vicissitudes observable in the state of these acquirements ; as we find them flourishing and decaying under circumstances so very opposite, that what at one time seems a powerful stimulus, appears, under different circumstances, totally devoid of influence. We find, in the history of Italy, under a parallel state of affairs, the whole nation seemingly engrossed in the ardent pursuits of science and the elegant arts; while, at another time, they seem incapable of mental energy, and lie buried in ignorance and barbarism. Sometimes one species of know ledge, taste, or way of thinking, gains the ascendency ; and sometimes another, without any apparent cause, either political or physical. And even when every probable cause seemed conspiring to oppress the arts, we find them flourishing ; and, on the contrary, languishing at another time, in spite of every endeavour to support and encou rage them.
Guicciardini tells us, that, at no period since the glori ous xra of Augustus, had Italy enjoyed such profound tranquillity, mildness of government, or greater promise of prosperity, than towards the year 1490. Agriculture and trade were in full activity under the encouragement of their native princes, who diffused that confidence and security, by the influence of which the genius of the coun try might be expected to flourish with the greatest luxu riance. The seeds may have been sown in this period of repose and prosperity, but we not find them shooting forth with vigour, until the brilliant epoch of the next half cen tury ; when Italy was torn by intestine faction, and war raged in every corner, when tile whole land had become Gne great field of battle, and where the powers of Europe struggled for the sceptre of the world. Neither repose
nor security could be looked for, while the inhabitants were thus driven about by the vicissitudes of a doubtful war; at the mercy of that long tissue of battles, of victo ries, and defeats, which alternately raised and sunk the fortunes of Charles V. and Francis I, Yet this turbulent epoch was the most glorious to the fine arts. In the midst of battles, engaged even in the mortal struggle for the existence of his country, we find Michael Angelo con structing the defences of his native Florence, fighting on the ramparts, driven a fugitive from his home, and at the same time producing those marvellous specimens of art which have immortalized his name. Leonardo da Vinci, Titian, and Raphael, were the brilliant galaxy that illu minated Italy, in spite of the storm that seemed to tear it into shreds. Conjecture is here at fault; we can as little account for the phenomenon of these great masters of the art appearing, while the minds of all men were filled with conflicting passions, and tossed about by the striving pow ers, as that, after so long a period of barrenness, the short space of forty years should comprehend, almost exclusive ly, all the names that establish the glory of modern art.
It is within the course of nature that one person might have lived to see them all. Born with Titian in 1477, he might have passed his life with Leonardo da Vinci, with Michael Angelo, Raphael, Corregio, Giorgione, Tintoret, Bassano, Paul Veronese, Julio Romano, and Andrea del Sarto,—hc might have outlived them all, and, even within the ordinary limits of human life, could have witnessed the close of Michael Angelo's brilliant career in the year 1563. Such was the rich harvest, which left but slender glean ings to succeeding ages. It had shot up and ripened in the midst of storms, and seemed, like the palm tree, to gather strength from the difficulties opposed to its growth, to spring into vigour in proportion to the weight employ ed to bear it down, "Adversus pondera resurgit." The stimulating principle which gave it life and energy to brave the adverse circumstances of the times, we can only conjecture to have been the encouragement and foresight of one enlightened family, that of the Medici.